Fiction Inferno: The literary magazine that burns you up

Fiction Inferno

The Literary Magazine That Makes You Hot

 
 
Fiction Inferno
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Don't Just Sit There, WRITE SOMETHING
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Hey! Welcome to the Blog of Eternal Damnation! Here's where you will see all the latest crap about the Web's hottest Speculative Fiction ezine, Bambi's Eschatological Underpinnings. And every now and again, just for sport, we just might include a little bit about Fiction Inferno: the Literary Magazine that Burns You Up.


Thursday, September 19, 2002

 
busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy busy

That wasn't too busy, was it?

posted by Max E. Keele 6:39 AM


Friday, September 13, 2002

 
In Praise of the Short Declarative Sentence

I like a short declarative sentence. They rock. Impact is maximized. Distortion is minimized. Accuracy reigns.

And then, he went long.

Because, you see, writing is all about communicating ideas in clear, accurate ways that leave little or no room for misunderstanding--unless you are trying for obfuscation of course, in which case you'd be better off writing like William Faulker, who's convoluted sentences constitute little adventures in and of themselves, twisting first one way, then the other, then darting off in some direction completely unanticipated until finally you have completely forgotten the point of the exercise entirely--and even less for consciousness drift (like the sort I am experiencing even now, my poor unanchored mind at full disjointed gallop, scampering thither and non, rudderless, mixed of metaphor, and very, very confused); the ultimate point being to transfer a specific thought from one brain to another with minimal leakage of the sort that politicians seem to cultivate with sentences that twist and deceive and in the end, signify nothing.

That said, what the hell was I talking about?


posted by Max E. Keele 10:12 AM


Tuesday, September 10, 2002

 
Wanna see one of my poems? Yeah, I write these sometimes. And no, I'm not very good at it.


ARE YOU HAVING FUN?


Still here at morning
coffee hours slide
past

minutes crowded useless
in the same old

ashtray

Solstice passes quickly
full moon
drops

into my head
with the subtle noise
of airplanes

waiting

still waiting

waiting still

I'm
dry ice happy
to be here

holding tight to





anticipation

still waiting


posted by Max E. Keele 6:50 AM


Thursday, September 05, 2002

 
Rock and roll. Single malt scotch. Crown rack of lamb. '66 GTO. Leggy brunettes named Ruth. Rocky beaches. Desert night sky. Literate speculative fiction. Brie and crackers. Nut brown ale. Witty repartee. Purring cat, wagging dog. Growl of wind high in tall trees. Fat black cherries. Flight of geese weaving in and out of a misty dawn. Digging out a perfect gemstone. Swishing a long hook shot. Gigondas. Etcetera.


Chapter Sixteen
Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch

Vince's father rolled out of bed, saw the empty spot where his sword usually hung and growled, "He'll think Invincible...."

Chapter Seventeen
In Which Someone Gets Put Out of Their Misery, Probably You

posted by Max E. Keele 12:58 PM

Experimental Exposure Level Detector. If this counter reads 99,999 or higher, you have been exposed to a level of mutagenic particle emission that should cause priapism in men and low-level continuous orgasm in women. Please let me know if this is a problem for anyone.


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